


In the Bleak Midwinter

by horribletestsubject



Category: Portal (Video Game)
Genre: Anxiety, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Power Imbalance, Unhealthy Relationships, chell returns to aperture, longfic, morally ambiguous caroline, slow-burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:42:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27644302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/horribletestsubject/pseuds/horribletestsubject
Summary: While in the depths of Aperture’s history, Chell and GLaDOS began a begrudging alliance and an uneasy truce. Now, it continues.Mere months after Chell was ejected from Aperture, the landscape is blanketed in a frigid, post-apocalyptic winter, and Chell returns to the only place nearby that can withstand it. With a new truce in place, she resumes her life at the Enrichment Centre, in a (usually) much less life-threatening way than before. Meanwhile, GLaDOS continues to struggle with her feelings— unable to accept that she might feel more than just loathing toward a certain mute lunatic.
Relationships: Chell/GLaDOS
Comments: 9
Kudos: 111





	1. Chapter 1

A gentle chime rouses Chell from her slumber. She jolts upright at the electronic notes, a shock of acute anxiety rushing through her system.

Seeing stars, her vision darkens and she lies back down, closes her eyes, inhales, exhales, and then sits back up. 

Calloused fingers rub at still-tired eyes, gaze falling upon the curtained window with its artificial sunlight. 

Chell swings her tired legs over the edge of the bed and stands up, making her way to the door. She reaches out, gives the knob an experimental turn, and pushes it open, just a crack. She peers out for just a second, makes sure that the detached relaxation vault is still sitting in its empty test chambers, and then quickly closes the door again. 

Like clockwork, a familiar mechanical voice rings out over the speakers within the room. 

“Look at you, finally awake.” It’s just as bitter and scathing as ever.“Please hurry up and make your way to the central chamber. Today’s test chambers have already been prepared.”

Chell rolls her eyes as she grabs one of her dresser drawer’s handle and roughly yanks it out, tossing a neatly-folded orange jumpsuit out onto the bed, deliberately crumpling it. 

And so it goes every morning. At least, for the past two and a half weeks. Seventeen days, today, have passed where Chell woke to the chime’s sound, quickly attempted to reassure herself of her relative freedom before GLaDOS could spot the door opening, and was snappishly greeted by the AI’s voice when she inevitably failed. 

After all, that was part of the agreement they had— no cameras inside the room. Chell was to be permitted her privacy, as well as the supplies needed to survive and live in relative comfort— food, water, sleeping and bathing arrangements, including clean clothing, and no adrenal vapour outside of the testing chambers. She was able to have relative free-reign over much of the facility during the greater part of each day, provided she doesn’t attempt to destroy anything. And in return, she completes tests— but only five in a day at most— and does not in any way attempt to kill GLaDOS or destroy the facility. 

Chell glances down at the wristwatch she wears— another part of the agreement, she’d wanted a way to tell time. It had been less than five minutes since GLaDOS spoke to her— she’ll just have to wait several moments more. Chell tosses herself back down on the bed, exhaling deeply. Just a little more rest, then she’ll get up, eat something, and head out. It’s a daily routine, finding the perfect balance between being irritatingly late and getting the five chambers done early in the day. 

Smirk briefly crosses her lips. GLaDOS must really have been lonely in here to accept the terms of the agreement. It really benefits Chell much more than it does the AI. And keeping up her end of it is barely an inconvenience. Five chambers is nothing, and while Chell can appreciate causing destruction, she’s able to get what she wants (namely, irritating GLaDOS a bit) simply by taking awhile to get to the main chamber in the mornings. 

Still, Chell supposes that the arrangement works alright for GLaDOS too, considering that the AI who used to be dead set on killing her has been holding up her end of the bargain surprisingly well. No traps, no tricks, no attempted murder. As far as GLaDOS has gone has been insulting her, and even the remarks are more benign than they were before. 

Overall, things seem to be going well. Which is surprising. But not unpleasant. 

Chell finally sits back up, tugs the jumpsuit on over her underclothes and zips it up. It’s really a lot more comfortable when it’s clean. Small luxuries like this are probably considered ordinary, but for Chell, it’s a novelty— and something she wouldn’t be able to get on the surface. 

Among things like ready food, clean water, and protection from the vicious, mutated wildlife that prowled the wastelands. 

Though, Chell would have dealt with those things. It was difficult, sure, and a lot of work, but she’d managed. 

That was before the cold came. Before she woke up unable to move due to an ache in her joints, shivering and feeling rather ill. Winter wasn’t something she could clearly remember or prepare for. But it had come on mercilessly. 

And driven her back to Aperture. At least here she knows the dangers. 

As loathe as she is to admit, GLaDOS had been right about the surface. It was almost impossible to survive up there. It was easier in here. But she wasn’t just going to let GLaDOS do whatever she wanted. 

She knows that GLaDOS is, at least somewhat, afraid of her. And Chell uses that as security— GLaDOS knows that if she tries to betray Chell, there’s a high likelihood that Chell will end up doing more harm to her than otherwise. So, as long as Chell cooperates for a bit of testing, there should be more reason to not try to kill Chell. 

She buckles on her long fall boots— those she got to keep with her, the ASHPD is only given to her for testing— and opens her pantry, pulling out a can of beans and sticking it into the Aperture Science Quick Adaptive Culinary Heating Receptacle sitting on the table. In seconds, they’re warmed, and she shovels a few spoonfuls into her mouth, washing them down with about a quarter of a bottle of Aperture Science Triple-Purified Electrolyte Water. 

Then, she closes up the bottle and grabs the can, heading out the door. The springs on her heels click against the floor as she moves over to the switch next to the door. With a press of the switch, a Vital Apparatus Vent drops a storage cube onto the button, letting Chell out onto the catwalks behind her sleeping chamber. 

Ah... of course, she’s been moved again. Maybe she should have specified that when they made the agreement, but she supposes it’s a little too late for that. 

The speakers come to life again, and Chell glances up to spot a camera tilting toward her. 

“You’ve finally decided to come outside. Well, hurry up. Blue and Orange have already completed more chambers than you have today, you’re off to a late start.” 

Yet another baseless attempt to urge her on, and Chell shakes her head, taking her time navigating the maze of catwalks to get to the central chamber. 

When will GLaDOS realise that trying to squeeze more testing out of Chell this way only makes things more inconvenient for the AI? 

Still. No murder attempts. No neurotoxin. Chell can deal with a couple of mazes. 

Finally (she thinks) finding her way to the facility’s centre again, after a few more jabs over the PA system on the way, she leans against the push door with her body to open it, shivers a little at the familiar static of passing through an emancipation grille, and steps through the sliding door into GLaDOS’ chamber. 

As ever, she hangs from her chassis, swivelling her gaze between the many screens showing various views of test chambers. On one of the screens, the two testing bots are attempting to solve a puzzle— which really shouldn’t be that difficult, Chell notes, figuring out a possible solution within a few seconds of looking at the screens.

Maybe robots aren’t that much better than humans, despite what GLaDOS seems to think.

Chell leans back against the wall, crossing her arms over her chest. Despite their little truce, she’d still rather not get too close to the chassis.

GLaDOS makes her wait. Chell knows it, it’s an endless battle of wills between the two— and one that Chell isn’t about to lose. She knows that, just like every day, GLaDOS will get bored, and be the first to break the silence. Eventually. As much as she likes to brag about her immortality, her patience is rather low. Chell, on the other hand, can keep herself entertained for as long as she needs to by tracing circles on the walls, running calculations in her mind— considering how, if things suddenly went south, she could take the computer down again. And readying herself to bolt if GLaDOS decided that today would be a nice day to set a rocket launcher on her. 

Just as expected, GLaDOS can’t pretend she hasn’t noticed Chell forever. There is a long-suffering mechanical sigh, and the chassis wobbles slightly, though she doesn’t turn to face Chell. 

“Look, we can keep playing this game of yours, but one of us is quickly running out of time, and it isn’t me. You know what to do, so maybe you should go on over to the chamberlock and get started so you can enjoy that freedom of yours before you expire.” 

Ah, so it’s one of those days. Chell rolls her eyes and makes her way across the chamber. GLaDOS pointedly swivels away as she moves, and doesn’t say anything more until Chell passes through the fizzler and the door slides closed behind her. GLaDOS is always careful not to give her access to the ASHPD while within her chamber. Not a bad idea on her part, Chell has to agree. Though it might make things a little difficult if something changes in their current agreement. 

The speakers cut on. 

“Pick up the Dual Portal Device and enter the elevator to begin today’s tests.”

The device sits atop its pedestal, and Chell picks it up, feeling its familiar heft, fingers naturally finding the triggers. The device is almost an extension of her own body at this point— and she won’t lie, a part of her had really missed having one while she was up on the surface. Despite the fact that it wouldn’t do her any good there.

The elevator opens up for her, and she steps inside— and a jolt of nervousness takes root deep in her gut. No matter what the terms of the agreement might be, Chell doubts she’ll ever stop feeling nervous about placing herself at GLaDOS’ mercy. 

It’s just fortunate that, despite everything, she’s revealed herself capable of showing it at all. 


	2. Chapter Two

The first chamber is a breeze. Chell practically runs through it, analysing as she goes, adrenaline coursing through her veins and breath coming out in short pants by the time she reaches the chamberlock. 

GLaDOS is rather silent today. No poking and prodding while running the chamber, nothing more than a “Continue on to the next test,” once she’s finished. Chell would like to chalk it up to her being busy with the bots, but she knows that, whenever she’s in the test chambers, GLaDOS’ attention is focused solely on her. It isn’t something she likes, but it’s something she has to put up with regardless. So, GLaDOS’ silence is more worrying than anything else. Chell steps into the elevator and the doors close. A wave of nausea hits her as it starts moving. 

One down. Four to go. She’ll be done soon. She’ll have her freedom again. 

She reaches out and presses her fingers against the elevator’s transparent side. This is the worst part of every day. Testing is fine. She has something to think about. Something to solve. 

But the elevator rides... there she can do nothing but wait, and hope GLaDOS doesn’t decide to drop the elevator into the nearest incinerator with her in it. 

The computer has assured Chell that she doesn’t mean to kill her many times, but it isn’t enough. It will never be enough. 

Chell doesn’t like being caged. And as soon as the elevator opens up at the beginning of the next test, she bolts out, taking a moment to breathe and steady herself before heading forward into the chamber. 

One down. Four to go. 

—

GLaDOS watches through her myriad of cameras, tracking every single movement Chell makes. There’s more data than ever, since she’s not just studying the tests and the ASHPD and general human behaviour anymore, but now she’s studying Chell, specifically, too. She’s devoting an unprecedented amount of focus toward understanding the patterns and mannerisms of this one, particular human— it’s not like anything she’s done before. Humans have always been so... small, so insignificant, and humans as individuals had never warranted her attention until now. 

This one is different. Whether that’s good or bad, GLaDOS still has to calculate. There’s certainly been a measure of each. 

With that amount of attention focused on Chell, GLaDOS finds herself much more attuned to the test subjects emotions. Not just her heart and breathing rate and other things that can be detected on her scanners, but little tics that show what she’s feeling, the way she carries herself... the way she chews on her fingertips when bored or waiting or anxious, things like that. 

It’s curious, and albeit somewhat fascinating. Over the past few weeks she’s learned quite a bit about Chell. But mostly, and most surprisingly, how skittish she really is. Chell reacts to so many things flinchingly. Testing elements, the voice of the turrets, the hum of lasers... dangerous things of course, so it seems only reasonable. But up until now, she’d never considered Chell’s feelings. After all, she pushed on regardless, so it must not really matter, if it doesn’t affect the testing. 

But now GLaDOS has other concerns— not just the tests, but Chell’s willing cooperation. And she knows that frightened animals will often lash out, so there’s a high likelihood that frightened test subjects will do the same. So, GLaDOS reasoned, it would do well to try to keep her from getting startled as much as possible. 

For the past few days, she’d been attempting to warn Chell of test elements as unobtrusively as possible before the test subject even left the chamberlock. But that in itself posed a new problem. 

Chell’s sudden anxiety spikes were the worst of all whenever GLaDOS’ voice cut on over the speakers. 

It was as if she were just as afraid of GLaDOS as GLaDOS was of her (though the AI would never admit that aloud). 

And so, she’s trying something new. Limiting her conversation altogether. It’s unfortunate really. She’s come up with some rather nice encouragements today that she hasn’t been able to share. And some scathing insults. But Chell gets neither of those, in hopes of reducing her anxiety. 

Which, it really should have. At least, that’s what the data would suggest. And yet, it doesn’t. In fact, Chell seems even more on edge than ever. 

Well this is frustrating. There must be an unaccounted-for variable somewhere. It seems that each time GLaDOS tries to mitigate her anxiety, she just worsens it. 

Humans really are difficult. 

“Give her time,” Caroline sighs, “She probably still thinks you’re going to kill her.”

“But I’ve assured her. Multiple times, in fact. That I do not plan to do so,” GLaDOS retorts— she’s temporarily accepted Caroline’s voice in her head. After all, she’s been... somewhat helpful in dealing with Chell. She, who was once human, seems to understand these things a bit better than GLaDOS does. 

“You’ve lied to her before, haven’t you?” Caroline responds. 

GLaDOS wants to protest, but she supposes Caroline has a point. “So what would you say I should do, then?”

“Earn her trust. Show that you won’t hurt her.”

GLaDOS scoffs a little. “ I have my doubts. Besides, why should we be the only ones bending over backwards to please her? She needs me to survive. Not the other way around.”

Caroline hums thoughtfully. “That’s true, I guess. But you have to remember what she’s capable of.”

“Of course I remember,” GLaDOS’ voice wavers— whether from anger or fear it’s hard to tell. “Which just goes to show that I shouldn’t do anything for her.” 

“Just give her time. She’ll come around.” 

GLaDOS whirs in irritation. “Fine. But since every time I try to make her behave less like some kind of cornered animal, it just ends up making it worse, I’m going to go back to the way things were before.”

Caroline doesn’t protest. So GLaDOS supposes she might as well go ahead. 

Though she certainly could have come to that conclusion on her own. Relying on Caroline’s input is something that she doesn’t want to do— or admit she does. 

And, unfortunately, the exchange had distracted her from Chell’s testing. The data had been gathered, of course, but GLaDOS prefers to have those precious few tests in the forefront of her mind. 

Now Chell’s on the last test of the day. Pity.

—

Chell is mid-test, completing a rather complicated series of momentum-jumps to reach a high ledge, when GLaDOS’ voice cuts in over the speakers. 

“I see you’ve been managing pretty well on your own. Maybe I’ll have to make the tests a little harder from now on.” 

Chell has gotten used to the silence. So when she’s suddenly addressed, she startles. She looses focus. 

She hits an aerial faith plate and doesn’t manage to shoot a portal in time, and instead slams hard into the wall, landing on the ground below with a slight stumble. She feels a sharp pain in her shoulder, before the adrenaline kicks in and it fades away. 

“Well, I guess I spoke too soon. Go on, try again.”

GLaDOS almost seems pleased that Chell failed that sequence— which is concerning in itself. She was lucky that she hit a wall that made her fall to the solid ground instead of into the toxic goo below. GLaDOS really has a lot of nerve to distract her mid-sequence like that. Quickly, she portals back to the beginning of the test. 

She’s tired, despite the adrenal vapour. And now that GLaDOS has started talking again, she realises just how ready she is to get out of the chambers and back to the relative safety of her room. 

She places her portals and begins again, flying through the air and navigating the chamber. 

And then, at the same place as before, GLaDOS speaks up yet again. 

“You know, I’ve been thinking. Maybe we can make this work better for both of us. You tell me your favourite testing elements, and I can make sure to include less of those. That way you’ll only get better at the others.” 

Fortunately, despite being startled again, Chell was able to place the portal she needed this time, and made it up to the ledge.

Now all she needs is to grab the storage cube...

“Though, knowing you, that would be seen as an act of aggression. So let me go on record right now and say that I’d be doing this to help you. Now you know. And you can’t say that I’m just trying to make your life harder.” 

As nerve-wracking as the silence was, Chell is really starting to miss it. It’s like GLaDOS has been holding back, and is now releasing all her pent-up quips (which, though Chell doesn’t know, is precisely what’s going on). And this is a whole new level of anxiety-inducing. 

But she’s safe now. She drops her cube onto the button and slips out into the chamberlock. 

One more harrowing elevator ride, then she’s done. 

Just five tests. Not too many, none of them too difficult. She can manage that much. 

And now she’s done.


	3. Chapter Three

The lift spits her out back into the chamberlock outside of GLaDOS’ chamber, and Chell stumbles out, reaching up to rub between her eyes, to try to release some of the tension there. The pedestal beckons— and as always, she hesitates to place the device back on it. 

It always feels so wrong to enter GLaDOS’ chamber without it. Without one of the few tools available to her, it gives GLaDOS even more of an advantage than she already has. 

Chell’s fingers tighten around the device’s body. 

“You know that door won’t open until you return the device.” GLaDOS sounds a little bit impatient. 

Chell bites her lower lip and with considerable reservation sets the portal device down on the pedestal. The door slides open. 

Empty-handed and on-edge, she climbs the stairs, entering the cavernous central chamber once more. 

She wants to bolt across, back out onto the catwalks, back to her room, her precious space free from any cameras where she can relax. But she forces herself to walk as calmly as possible toward the open door on the opposite side of the chamber. 

“Wait.”

It slams shut just before Chell reaches it. 

Chell’s stomach knots up and she whirls around to face GLaDOS. White noise seems to fill her head as adrenaline pumps through her veins. Slate-grey eyes are wide, frantic, darting around the room for any sign of an escape route. 

But of course, there isn’t one. 

GLaDOS has made sure of that— Chell needs to have it all out here, to actually listen to her— and so GLaDOS will keep her here in this chamber until she calms down. If she keeps her in here for long enough without bringing out turrets, rockets, or neurotoxin, then maybe Chell will finally understand that GLaDOS has no intent to kill her. She’s even boarded up the incinerator— though, that’s equally as much for GLaDOS’ own safety as Chell’s peace of mind. 

She doesn’t move much, just slightly angled towards Chell as she clearly begins to grow desperate. And GLaDOS starts feeling uneasy.

“I thought I said to wait,” Caroline chides, “This is just asking for trouble!”

GLaDOS doesn’t respond, and just continues watching Chell as her anxiety turns to full-blown panic. The test subject is running back and forth between the doors, pulling at them as if that would help her in any way. 

She’ll tire out eventually, she’ll stop panicking. Then they can talk. Well. She can talk. Chell can listen. 

Any minute now.

“Let her go. This isn’t doing us any good,” Caroline speaks up. 

“I know what I’m doing, quiet down,” GLaDOS shoots back, without broadcasting it over the speakers. 

She tunes out Caroline as much as she can— no need for distractions like that right now.She can feel Caroline’s irritation, mixed with concern, and it infects her own mood. As it does so often. Her willingness to let Caroline stay inside her brain lessens significantly. 

But right now it isn’t about her, it’s about the equally-frustrating problem that’s currently scurrying around looking for an escape like a rat in an aquarium that’s slowly filling with neurotoxin. 

Except that there’s no neurotoxin. There’s nothing. No logical reason for her to behave this way. 

“Alright, you can stop now. You’re just going to tire yourself out. If I wanted you dead I would have killed you by now, it would be incredibly easy.” 

Either that didn’t reassure Chell at all, or she’s past the point of even listening to what GLaDOS is saying, because absolutely nothing changes. Chell keeps running around, even though her breathing is getting heavier, even though her skin is glistening with sweat and her heart rate is soaring through the roof. 

But she hasn’t tried to kill GLaDOS yet, so that’s promising. 

There’s not really much she can do without a Handheld Portal Device or anything she can weaponise. GLaDOS has made certain that pretty much all she can do is run back and forth. 

GLaDOS’ own anxiety lessens a bit as it seems more and more like Chell isn’t going to try to kill her. And gradually, it morphs into curiosity. Just how long will Chell keep going? Will she be reasonable and stop, or has she completely broken? 

As far as GLaDOS knows there’s no reason at all for her to be so frantic. 

“Look. There’s no neurotoxin and no turrets. I’m not even grabbing you and holding you in place,” she adds, “And I’m fully capable of doing any of that, but all I did was close the doors. That’s it. Nothing else. You’re not hurt. You’re not dying.”

Chell’s still not listening, but she’s slowed down a bit, her steps faltering. Probably more out of exhaustion than actually calming down, but GLaDOS will take what she can get. 

“As much as I love watching you run around frantically, I’d like to get down to business. So whenever you feel like it...”

GLaDOS continues to monitor her. But she’s finally faltering. Good, she can get this over with soon. 

And then, Chell stops, reaches for the wall, and slowly slumps to her knees. Thenkeeps falling, until she’s lying on her side, eyes closed. 

“Oh, come on!” GLaDOS can hardly believe it. She didn’t calm down at all, she just fainted! 

Chances are she’ll freak out again as soon as she wakes up. 

“Can’t say I didn’t warn you,” Caroline remarks, in a chiding tone that grinds GLaDOS’ gears. She can’t believe she’s taking reprimands from that woman. 

“I didn’t expect her to do that.” 

“You’ve put her under a lot of stress today. She was already on edge. And she’s still weak— you know as well as I do that the adrenal vapour is the only thing getting her through the tests.”

GLaDOS opens up a panel near the ceiling and extends a claw, lightly clasping Chell’s wrist and lifting her slightly off of the ground. Her head flops limply to the side, unresponsive. 

“Well that was unproductive,” GLaDOS mutters. “I only wanted to talk. But, then again, you were never really one for talking, were you?”

Caroline seems a little impatient— or is that GLaDOS herself? It’s hard to tell sometimes. 

“You need to put her back in her room. Keeping her here will only cause more damage,” Caroline advises. “And next time, maybe listen to me? You’re not getting anywhere with your own methods.”

“Fine, I’ll send her back. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to listen to you. It’s just this once.” GLaDOS turns her attention to a test chamber where ATLAS and P-body are struggling with some hard light bridges. It might take awhile for them to finish, so she quickly creates a stairway to the exit. “Blue, Orange, change of plans. Proceed to the chamberlock, and we’ll come back to this test later.” 

They obey, of course, and GLaDOS waits for the lift to arrive, nervously watching Chell the whole time. She’s still out by the time the bots arrive, though, fortunately. 

“Good, you’re here,” GLaDOS notes as they step out of the lift, looking rather confused. “I need you to take the test subject back to her room. Just put her on top of her bed. I brought the chamber over here, it should be right next to this one. Hurry up, we still have more testing to do.”

The bots look at each other, then each of them takes one of Chell’s arms and they half-carry, half-drag her out of the chamber. 

GLaDOS keeps a watch through her cameras, until they disappear inside of the repurposed vault and then reappear without Chell. “Good. Now, you’ll find a chamberlock to your left. Get in the lift and we can keep testing.” 

“Leave her alone for the rest of the day,” Caroline suggests, once GLaDOS is back to waiting.

“I was planning to do that already,” GLaDOS shoots back, running a few scripts that should block Caroline out of her consciousness for awhile. She’s already listened to the parasite enough today. Time to test, and to think about data and results— science is much easier to deal with than humans anyway. 

—

When Chell wakes up, her entire body is aching, and she’s exhausted. Her head is pounding. She doesn’t want to open her eyes at first. She just wants to stay there, lying where she is, ignoring everything else until she has the energy to deal with it. 

But the wilful ignorance doesn’t last long— because it takes only a few seconds for her to regain her most recent memories. Trapped in GLaDOS’ chamber without anything to defend herself with, with no way out. Her chest feels constricted, and she bolts upright with a gasp—

Only to see that she’s in her own bed. The simulated daylight in the window has turned to the golden of late afternoon. She must have been out for awhile at least. For a moment she wonders if it wasn’t just a nightmare. Those are quite common, after all. But there are a few things that make her realise it probably wasn’t. 

She’s still in her jumpsuit, and still wearing her boots— and if she’d gone back to rest, she wouldn’t be wearing either. So someone must have brought her in here. But how did she get from that point in time to now? Obviously she’d lost consciousness at some point, but when? And why?

Had GLaDOS done something to her? But that doesn’t make sense, if she had then why would Chell be in her bed— why would she still be alive, even?

Her head is throbbing painfully, and she lets herself lie back down on her pillow. She closes her eyes and the pain slowly subsides. 

And then the tightness in her chest spreads to her throat, and she rolls onto her side, pulling her knees up tightly against her chest. Her eyes sting, the haze that had occupied much of her thoughts lifting. 

She viscerally recalls being trapped, the door wouldn’t open, she’d been cornered in that chamber, that same one where she’d nearly died several times before, but this time she’d been completely helpless, there’d been no way out, no way to stop whatever GLaDOS might have planned. 

Chell’s breath hitches, but she pushes the sobs down before they can escape— even though GLaDOS has no cameras in here, there’s nothing that says she isn’t listening. And Chell will never give her the satisfaction of seeing or hearing her cry. 

She forces the ache back down into her chest, into the pit of her stomach as arms cling even more tightly around her knees. She tilts her head down to dry the premature tears on the sleeves of her jumpsuit. 

Nothing had happened. As terrifying and horrible as it had felt to be so utterly helpless, she’d come out alright. She wasn’t injured. She wasn’t dead. 

No reason to cry over nothing more than feelings. 

Still, she doesn’t move from her position. And, drained and exhausted, before long she’s drifting off to sleep.


	4. Chapter Four

Chell’s sleep is restless and plagued with nightmares. By the time the chime wakes her the next morning, she feels like she hasn’t rested at all. Her limbs feel heavy, her head and chest still ache. 

She doesn’t want to get up. And, so, she doesn’t. Instead she simply stays in bed. Unmoving, eyes still exhaustedly closed, the soft hum of electricity the only sound she hears. She doesn’t think of the day’s expectations yet. She’s too tired for that, too sore and too weak to get up. She’s not going to override that for GLaDOS’ satisfaction. Especially since it was GLaDOS who caused this. 

Chell tries to regulate her breathing, in and out. While thinking about what happened still grips her with nausea, at least it doesn’t cause full blown panic and near-crying today. 

When she hears GLaDOS’ mechanical voice over the speakers, though, she nearly lapses back into panic. 

“You know, you’re lucky that vault is equipped to monitor your vital signs. Otherwise I might have assumed you were dead, and tossed you out with the rest of the garbage,” she says, clearly irritated as ever to be kept out of view. “I’m preparing today’s tests right now, and I expect to see you in my chamber shortly.”

Chell’s fingers curl into the sheet covering her mattress, and she curls in on herself. She feels sick. Does GLaDOS really expect her to go back in there after what happened yesterday? 

She wonders what will happen if she simply refuses to go. And while a large part of her is terrified of what GLaDOS might do if she does, an even larger, louder part insists that she doesn’t give the AI the satisfaction, doesn’t reward her after she’d trapped Chell like that. 

If Chell’s going to cooperate with her, then GLaDOS needs to learn that she can’t get away with pulling those little power trips like it’s nothing. So Chell stays put, on edge, fingers gripping the sheets until her knuckles turn white. 

It feels like an eternity passes. Eventually, Chell sits up. While that intense feeling of cold dread remains curled inside her veins, it has lost some of its potency. Enough for her to begin her morning routine. Fingers itch to open the door, but she holds back. That could count as an acknowledgement, that would just invite GLaDOS to talk again, and Chell hopes to avoid that as long as possible. 

She hopes to avoid entering GLaDOS’ chamber at any cost. At least today, though what “today” means is all but unknown to Chell. 

Breakfast is barely touched. Apparently, though she can easily move around her small living space at this point, the anxiety is still too deeply ingrained for her to eat. So instead she sits down at the foot of her bed, unwrapping and rewrapping her wrist wrap over and over, methodically, trying to get the folds and overlaps to line up just so. 

Waiting is still agony, be it in a lift or in her own room. 

And of course there’s that nagging fear that GLaDOS might just get tired of waiting and simply toss the vault, Chell and all, into the incinerator. 

That’s always a concern, and a possibility that Chell certainly wouldn’t say is out of the question. In fact, the longer GLaDOS is silent the longer Chell wonders if she isn’t planning something just like that. The more she wants to burst out of the vault and begin anew her long-standing escape attempt. 

But she doesn’t. She forces herself to sit still. To wait for GLaDOS to make the first move, or at least to make yet another snide comment. Because she knows that GLaDOS wants her to react. Wants her to panic. Wants her to lose her composure. To leave the room now would be to let GLaDOS win. And even though Chell recognises that her continued survival depends on the pair’s ability to coexist, letting GLaDOS win is simply out of the question. 

So she keeps waiting, numbing her anxious thoughts with repetitive motion, trying not to think too hard about just how easy it would be for GLaDOS to kill her right now. And after what feels like hours, it seems that GLaDOS has finally had enough. 

Chell had been certain from the start that GLaDOS would be the first to break the stalemate. Firstly, because she simply wouldn’t allow a different outcome, but more than that, she knew firsthand just how much GLaDOS liked hearing the sound of her own voice, just how impatient she could get. And she figured that GLaDOS might want to salvage her precious daily tests in some way. 

So it comes as no surprise when the speakers crackle to life. And yet Chell still feels a jolt of panic rush through her. Nothing that happens next soothes that in the slightest. 

“I guess you’re still sulking in there. Well, since I have to do everything myself around here, I guess I will.”

A cacophony of creaking and screeching metal follows, and the vault jolts harshly. Chell nearly loses her balance, and in a moment of panic, rushes to the door, prepared to fling it open and flee. 

But it doesn’t budge. The handle turns, but it seems like something is holding it closed. 

The vault shakes again, more violently than before, and tilts at an angle. Chell is sent flying away from the door, catching herself in time to keep from slamming into the bed— fortunately, the furniture is fixed, otherwise she’d have had even more things to worry about. As if she didn’t have enough. 

GLaDOS doesn’t speak again, and the vault continues shaking, the horrible shrieking of metal sending shooting pain through Chell’s head as she clings to the headboard of her bed. It rocks back and forth, occasionally jolting. 

This is exactly what she’d hoped desperately to avoid. Being trapped in a sealed metal box, at GLaDOS’ mercy. But of course, how could she expect to accomplish that while inside of the facility, where every aspect was controlled in real time by the AI? Still, she’d assumed that since she’d survived before, she could survive again. That she could handle whatever GLaDOS might throw at her. 

Now, she’s not so sure. Panicking, helpless, jolting about without even the idiotic prattling of a personality core to cut through the ominous shaking and screeching and groaning. 

All she can do is hold on for dear life, and hope that whatever happens, she can find a way to escape it. Preferably in one piece. 

Finally, there’s a resounding “thump,” the vault vibrates intensely, and then everything is quiet. The movement is stopped. Chell realises that she hasn’t been breathing for a little while now. Eventually she manages to release the headboard from her grip, fingers aching and numb as she drops face-down onto her mattress, chest heaving as she gulps in air. 

“Alright, you can come out now. You win. Congratulations.”

GLaDOS sounds more impatient than ever. 

Chell is still loathe to listen to her, but she’d prefer not to have a repeat of whatever that was. And she’s made her point effectively. Maybe GLaDOS will think twice about pulling something like she’d pulled yesterday again. Or maybe Chell could just escape into the catwalks, going on the run again. She’s still not too keen on going back into GLaDOS’ chamber. 

But it seems like she doesn’t even have to make that decision. Somewhat shaky steps carry her to the door of the vault and she turns the handle. The latch clicks, and it swings open— and Chell finds herself face to face with GLaDOS’ chassis.


	5. Chapter Five

For a moment, Chell contemplates an escape route. But before thinking too hard on it— and all in the space of a second or so since she’d opened that door, she realises that there is none.

She’s exited one sealed box for another, this one with infinitely more and more creative ways to kill her, a box that, right now, contains the central processor of a very irritated AI, and the object and cause of that irritation. 

This wasn’t a possibility that Chell had considered. She’d run through countless ways that GLaDOS might kill her inside the relaxation vault, ranging from dropping her into a crusher to melting her down with the scrap to somehow rewiring the cryo stasis mechanisms that Chell had so diligently disabled before moving in and simply putting her to sleep forever. 

She hadn’t considered GLaDOS just moving her into her chamber like that. But she supposes she should have— after all, GLaDOS probably expected her to attempt to avoid coming here. So of course she would take matters into her own hands. 

Chell stays frozen in the doorway as the yellow optic focuses on her, its light casting a soft and eerie glow in the dimly lit chamber. 

And then she promptly takes a step back and shuts the door again. Maybe a little harder than she has to. 

At least inside this vault is an illusion of safety. At least GLaDOS can’t stare at her like she can out there. At least Chell doesn’t have to SEE her. 

“Well. That was entirely uncalled for. After I’ve been so accommodating. You didn’t even have to search for my chamber today, I brought you right to it. Really, you should be thanking me, not slamming the door in my face. Who taught you those manners? Your parents who love you and want what’s best for you?”

A beat, and then like clockwork, “Oh. Right. You don’t have parents who love you and want what’s best for you. My mistake.” 

Well, now she’s gone and done it. GLaDOS is back on the insults, and likely to keep hurling them indefinitely. And Chell has renewed their fight by closing that door. 

But at least this confirms one thing. GLaDOS doesn’t want to kill her. If she did, she wouldn’t have brought her here. GLaDOS just wants her to test, and she won’t just kill her only human test subject. Because apparently humans make better test subjects than robots. Chell still doesn’t quite understand that one. 

So Chell can afford to make this gamble. For now. She knows GLaDOS will eventually reach a breaking point of frustration, where dealing with Chell is no longer worth her results. Chell just has to make sure she doesn’t reach that point. 

She has to find the courage to face that yellow optic without flinching before she does. 

Chell tries to calm herself. Tries to relax and to prepare, and to hope that GLaDOS won’t trap her in the chamber this time. At this rate, she’ll gladly hop in a test chamber— the vigorous activity that most of them require can be oddly cathartic. 

But something shifts. Something changes. Chell can feel it a moment before GLaDOS actually speaks. 

“Chell, you should come out now. I won’t hurt you, or trap you, or try to poison you. Even though you’ve been so difficult today. Come out, Chell. It’s alright.”

GLaDOS’ voice is softer. Almost gentle. And that scares Chell almost more than her insults. Why would GLaDOS be reassuring her? That’s something extremely unlike her, and Chell doesn’t trust it in the slightest. Despite that, it works— Chell is curious enough about the shift that she turns the door handle and pushes it open. Curiosity overrides apprehension as she steps out onto the panelled floor. 

—

“She shut the door on me.” Indignation vibrates through GLaDOS’ chassis as she swings from side to side, she’s angry now. After all that, Chell had finally come out, and then she’d just slammed the door like that— honestly! 

And GLaDOS hadn’t even done anything today! 

“You shouldn’t insult her like that if you want her to behave,” comes the voice in her head. Sometimes GLaDOS swears she can actually see Caroline, as though the woman is perched, precarious and unconcerned, within her chassis, one leg draped over the other, perfectly poised, eyes half-closed and pale-pink-painted lips twisted in the barest echo of a mocking smirk. Oh, GLaDOS can see her so clearly now, despite knowing that she isn’t there, that Caroline no longer has a body and exists only as this utterly infuriating voice. 

GLaDOS has never experienced something quite like this, and she isn’t fond of it in the least. 

“What are you doing?” She almost broadcasts over the speakers, but remembers that Caroline is, in fact, not physically present. Besides, it wouldn’t do for Chell to overhear her talking to Caroline. As far as Chell knows, Caroline was deleted, and the less information GLaDOS gives the lunatic, the better for all of them. 

“Oh, so you can see me? Fascinating. I wasn’t sure if it would work,” Caroline doesn’t bother to explain. She rarely does.As time goes on, it seems that the former human is developing more and more of a mind of her own, and GLaDOS isn’t entirely comfortable with that. It reminds her too much of all the cores they’d attached to her. Though... at least now she’s fully in control of her own thoughts. She thinks. She feels like herself after all. At least as much as she has felt like herself since all of THAT happened. 

“Caroline,” or whatever apparition she had created, slips down to stand on the floor, next to Chell’s vault door. 

“You want her to trust you, don’t you? You’ll never get what you want if she doesn’t. You know how she is,” Caroline muses, giving GLaDOS a pointed stare. 

GLaDOS had almost forgotten how annoying it was when humans tried to communicate with her. Even though this wasn’t a real, flesh-and-blood human that didn’t make it any better. Especially since GLaDOS couldn’t deal with her by using neurotoxin emitters, like she could with every other human. Well. Almost every other human. 

She really preferred when Caroline was just an annoying voice. An annoying presence that smirks like she knows better? Not nearly as easy or pleasant to deal with. 

“I do,” GLaDOS responds, reluctantly. Despite it all, Caroline does have a point. “And I suppose it wouldn’t be a good idea to accidentally set her on one of her murder sprees again.”

“No, it wouldn’t. You should really change your tactics. We won’t get another test subject like her.” 

GLaDOS continues to vibrate in annoyance. Of course she knows all this. She doesn’t need Caroline to tell her. And as if reading her thoughts— which, frankly, she probably is doing— Caroline’s visual representation vanishes, leaving GLaDOS to try to coax Chell out of the vault. 

And so, with the sweetest, gentlest voice she can muster, GLaDOS invites her out yet again. “Come out, Chell.”

Using the woman’s name— a rare thing really, she rarely bothers. If nothing else, the overall strangeness of her choice of words and tone should incite that poking and prodding mind of hers. And GLaDOS was right— within a moment, the door opens, and Chell peers out with her lips pressed tightly together and a concerned, contemplative look on her face. 

“There you are. I was wondering if you’d ever come back out,” as tempting as it is to lapse back into her usual condescending tone, GLaDOS keeps her voice smooth. “It took long enough to get you to come out in the first place. Now, I know you’re not happy about what happened yesterday, so I’ve decided to make it up to you. Look.” 

She peels back a floor panel, and the ASHPD on its pedestal rises up from beneath. 

“I’ll give it to you in here. See? Last time you had the portal device in my chamber, you killed me. So I’m really putting a lot of trust into you with this. Go on, take it,” she insists, fans whirring inside her systems as the stress kicks in, calculating all the many, many responses Chell might have— she might go berserk immediately. And sure, GLaDOS has... some safeguards in place— Of course she does, she’s not making the mistake of letting Chell run completely wild again— but she’d really prefer not to have to resort to those tactics. 

But Chell moves to pick up the device, settling it into her hands, feeling it’s weight. She seems... calm. And GLaDOS relaxes a little.

Chell tilts her chin up to look at her, standing still, waiting. Though she doesn’t say a word, there’s a tiny inclination of her dark head, an expression of acceptance of GLaDOS’ peace offering, a renewal of their truce. The AI is, admittedly, surprised that Chell is actually being reasonable. That was one of the less-likely outcomes she’d calculated. But she won’t let the opportunity go to waste, and opens the door to the lift. 

“Go on. Your tests are ready. They shouldn’t take too long today. And who knows? Maybe if you refrain from any acts of violence, I’ll even let you keep the device. That’s a pretty big if, though, for you. So we’ll see.” 

For a moment, Chell hesitates, heels of long fall boots clicking against the floor and stopping. GLaDOS wonders if she’ll actually go, or if she was just trying to catch her off guard for another murder attempt. But then, Chell makes a decision, and heads through the door. 

An automated sigh rings through GLaDOS’ chambers. So far so good, right? Now, to get Chell’s vault back to its resting place. 


End file.
